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lokisgoodgirl · 8 months

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Changing Seasons: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (1) A long journey with Thor, Steve and Loki ends in a ramshackle country cottage. But really, it's just begun. (w/c 3.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Ex-Loki. Smut references. Humour/Mild angst. Recommended Folklore Track: The 1

This is fine.

It’s just five days. In this...cottage. With your ex. You’ll barely see him.

The tiny two story building sat before you, twisting wisteria claiming rough stoned walls. Burnt orange leaves sparked against the morning chill, rooted into windowsills and crumbling brickwork.

It was small. Really small.

You stretched your legs, observing Thor waddle from the car, laden with suitcases.

One fell.

“Watch that!” Steve snapped, on his last nerve after the drive from the Essex compound. A hand flew to his neck, massaging the twinge caused by six hours squashed in the back of a hastily acquired hatchback. “Your collection of personal toys, Rogers?” Loki drawled, letting his mirth-filled eyes slide between the two men. “Yes, brother do be careful. We wouldn’t want the captain to be without an outlet.” Steve’s face flushed, while Thor staggered valiantly onward to the cottage door. “I still don’t understand why we didn’t take the train,” Loki muttered with a theatrical sigh, a single brush down the front of his suit making every well-worn crease evaporate. “The two of you on a train,” Steve spat incredulously, “wouldn’t be great for subtlety.”

Every syllable was laden with frustration as he heaved another case from the trunk. The god nodded. “Even I must admit, this is much more entertaining Rogers” he replied, motioning towards the cottage at the exact moment Thor’s forehead smacked against the low awning.

The suitcases fell in predictable succession. “Jeepers criminey-” Steve gasped, lunging forwards.

You rolled your eyes, smiling just Loki glanced backwards. A wolfish grin ignited. Shit. With narrowed eyes, he began to glide around the Fiat like a day-walker. His hair was slicked back, falling over the shoulders of a black suit more appropriate to fashion week than training in the wilds of the Lake District. You’d tried not to look at him much on the way here. For obvious reasons. He swaggered with resolute precision, infuriatingly erotic as he always was. It was sick, how he looked so good. Like he hadn’t been in the same car as the rest of you, gorging on jelly babies and squished krispy kremes foraged along the motorway. You had practised for this moment, and to your credit; your face remained perfectly straight. Your posture, casual. Unbothered, as Steve and Thor argued further up the path.

‘My slacks were perfectly folded in New York. If there is any rumplage Odinson- then I’ll know who to blame.’

‘Carry your own damn suitcases, then-’ ‘-I would’ve, if you hadn’t been such a dandy-show-off’

You spun away from your incoming ex, steadying your racing heart as you focused on the horizon. Mist hung over the rusted treeline, green and sienna twisting together and dipping down to a sprawling lake about a mile away, you reckoned, spread against the sunrise. Loki’s playful scathing broke the calm. “You haven’t said two words to me in almost twelve hours, Agent,” he purred. “I’m impressed.” There was a time that kind of talk would have brought you to your knees. But not anymore, you lied to yourself, clenching. With your eyes still lowered, you tilted your chin towards him. Defiantly, slowly, you raised them; catching his inscrutable stare like a rifle’s scope. You raised your eyebrows expectantly, lips sealed. Loki scoffed, looking into the distance. His breath was fog. “I don’t know what else I expected,” he muttered quietly.

You stood in silence, backs turned to the domestic carnage unfolding at the cottage door. Letting your gaze roll over the mountains. Early morning autumnal air stung the back of your throat. Fresh pine and wisps of smoke from unseen chimneys, far away. Amber hues spindled along the surface of the lake a mile below, rippling methodically. You fought the urge to look at him.

His eyes would look beautiful in this kind of light. Always had. “It reminds me of home,” he murmured wistfully. It sank into the crisp air, the softness of the tone you still dreamt about curling around your body like smoke. Loki’s scent mingled with the breeze, reminding you of nights spent wrapped around him as you slept in snatches. His hand never far from your own. His love draped over you like a cloak.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You felt him lean in, the warmth of his breath against your skin drawing closer before it retreated. “Asgard,” he added condescendingly. “Although, Asgard isn’t quite as...rustic.” He lifted a foot, making a show of wiping a sole on the wet grass.

You grit your teeth. It never ended. He couldn’t help himself, even after everything that had happened between you. The snake tightened inside your belly, unfurling and poised to strike; regrettable words bubbling behind your teeth. “Let’s just get through this week, shall we?” Loki snapped, before turning away. The crunch of twigs beneath his retreating footsteps was all you heard as the chill stung your eyes. Just the chill.

"I carry the paraphernalia so I shall be first across the threshold thank you very much,” Thor grumped, jostling Steve from his path and shuffling sideways through the frame. Steve grimaced, nodding at Loki to follow his brother. “Thank you,” Loki said curtly; noting the captain’s gaze flicker to where you stood overlooking the lake in a valiant attempt to remain mysterious. “She’s quite well,” he added presumptively.

Steve frowned. “She was quiet on the drive. Even let Thor play his music. Not like her” he said, leaning against the cottage wall before recoiling. “Urgh, it’s damp.” Loki chuckled. “Of course it is. Welcome to the northern hemisphere, Rogers. What you need, is some leather” he winked.

He watched the captain pat his shirt fruitlessly as a stain blossomed through the pale cotton, clearing his throat softly. “She’s still a little...put out... by our parting of ways. Can’t blame her, really. I mean-” He gestured to himself with a consillatory sigh. “She’ll warm up-”

Loki cast a glance around, realising he wasn’t sure if the hallway was colder than the exterior. “-metaphorically, anyway.”

Steve nodded sagely. “To everything there is a season…” he mused. Loki frowned, turning away. He waved a dismissive hand. “You know I do not traffic in colloquialisms, Rogers” he scoffed with his back turned. Entering the kitchen, Loki immediately bumped his shin on a discarded suitcase. He wrinkled his nose.

A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling, barely illuminating the cramped space. Ageing wallpaper clung valiantly to its charge, whimsical ducks and geese parading in an inexplicable march. Thor stood hunched over the sink, running spluttering water into the world’s smallest kettle. The ceiling was inches from his head. “Tea, brother?” he chirped. Loki nodded, wondering how the hell they’d ended up here. “Rogers?” he enquired innocently. Steve’s head popped round the doorframe.

“Howdy!” Loki closed his eyes and took a breath. “Rogers,” he repeated. “Remind me why this week is truly necessary?” Steve released a forced chuckle. “I’ll get to that. Hang tight.” He disappeared, shouting your name down the path. By the time the two of you returned, Loki had seidred the suitcases to their respective destinations. He had secured the largest room for himself, of course. Although that wasn’t saying much. Rogers and Thor would be sharing. Loki had the sneaking suspicion that was not the plan – but alas for them – it was their new reality.

Four mismatched mugs of steaming tea sat on the small square table in the corner. Loki sat in one chair, legs crossed. Thor in the other, looking decidedly squashed.

Steve closed the kitchen door while you leant against the counter-top, arms folded. “I made tea,” Thor smiled, pleased with himself as he held it forth like an offering. You accepted. Loki noted the shiver that shook your shoulders as the hot mug entered your cupped grasp. A fleeting smile of pleasure skating across your cheeks. He’d missed that, he found. “Please, take my s-” Loki started, beginning to rise. Habit. “I’ll stand,” you replied curtly. Loki nodded, sinking down. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as an oblivious Steve squinted suspiciously out the window while closing the blinds. “Alrighty then-” he said, turning. His enthusiastic glances bounced to each of them in turn. Thor adjusted himself, rewarded with the malevolent warning creak of a chair leg.

“As anyone who was listening during our meetings will know,” Steve paused, staring at Loki, “it’s come to my attention that our manual outdoor skills are somewhat lacking. Anything happens to our abilities or comms while we’re on a rugged mission and booyah,” he made a burst with his fingers, “pardon my french – but we’re up crud creek without a paddle.” Loki scoffed. “Hardly-” “This week we’ll be getting back to basics. You two-” Steve gestured between the gods seated at the withered dining set, “especially. It’s all magic and brawny shenanigans until you need to skin a rabbit.” He looked to you warily, “Metaphorically, of course. Our resident expert will give us instruction, and we’ll go from there-” Steve nodded to you, folding his arms. Loki rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you understand how magic-” “No weak links.” he continued, un-phased. He had his very serious face on. “And I count myself in this too. We need to be confident that if something happens, and we’re out in the wilds...we can handle ourselves. Survive, until help arrives.” “But why here?” Loki whined, “we have the facilities to simulate the environment back in-” Steve held up a hand. “No one can know earth’s mightiest heroes are out here learning outdoorsing 101, Laufeyson. Imagine the press. No.” He shook his head. “This is absurd,” Loki muttered into his tea.

“Let’s try and have fun. At the very least, it’s a week in the fresh air.” Loki’s eyes rose, your words and tone clearly rehearsed. There was a weak smile on your face, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He’d become intimately acquainted with that look in the final months of your relationship.

Silence hung in the kitchen. “And the two of you will be alright, will you?” Thor boomed, stretching a leg which reached halfway across the floor. He took a sip of tea as Steve’s face went pink.

“I mean, with the breakup. Although I suppose its better than being kept awake by the ooo’ing and ahhh’ing through the walls, isn’t it Rogers?” He began to chortle, “remember...remember in- where was it? Oh, Columbia. Norns, what a-”

“-Brother,” Loki snarled. Hair bristled on the back of his neck. You cleared your throat. “Loki and I have an understanding. There’s no animosity between us-” “Isn’t there? News to me,” Loki mumbled petulantly, running a finger across the plastic table cloth. He could almost hear the grind of your teeth as you spoke pointedly to Thor. “Well I intend on remaining professional. I’m sure your brother is the same.” Loki shook his head, snorting. “Professional?” he spat incredulously. “What need have I to be professional? I am a god.” “And there it is,” you began, temperature rising before Steve patted down the air.

“How about we go check out the bedrooms?” he said. Everyone murmured agreement. And somewhere between Loki cursing his temper, and the babble of his brother’s half-hearted apology- you were gone.

Ten minutes later, Loki found himself staring at the same spot on the wall he had been for the last eight. It was meditative almost. On the other side of the wall at the end of his bed, was your room. Small, rectangular. Barely space for more than the single bed. But Loki had a feeling you didn’t mind.

You had settled on the mattress around seven minutes ago after unpacking, the comforting creak of springs alerting him. What were you doing, he wondered. Thinking. Feeling? He shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself that was no longer his business. But the thought crawled back with the vengeance of a dying wasp. If we were together still, I’d have made her climax twice on this bed by now.

His clothing hung in a drab single wardrobe. When in Nilfheim, he’d surmised. The garments were simple, and perfunctory. All manner of base layers and fleece lined items in vapid shades which lacked even a morsel of style. Not a sniff of leather. And zips in the most unflattering places.

Loki shuddered.

His ears pricked as he heard a wooden board in your room creak, tracking the slow amble of five steps it took to cross the floor from end to end. She’s looking out the window, he mused.

‘Get your hands off my undergarments,’ Thor’s voice was crisp and menacing through the wall to Loki’s left. ‘Well, put them in a drawer like a gentleman.’ Steve snipped in response, barely muffled by the stone. ‘There are no drawers! Why must we reside in such a place, Rogers!?’ He has a point, Loki thought. ‘Because no one would expect it.’ Steve replied smugly.

There was a pause, but Loki could hear the thump of Thor’s boots as he rounded the twin beds, positioning himself for attack. His voice was low, and purposeful. ‘Just like you won’t expect...this.’ The inhuman sound of one of his brother’s legendary farts ripped through the wall.

Loki braced in the silence that followed, relishing the craft of his devious room organisation while Steve, he presumed, got some traction to exit through the window. ‘Jeepers,’ came the choked, disbelieving response of the captain through the wall. Jeepers indeed, Rogers, Loki smirked.

A sudden tinkle of restrained laughter perked his ears. It came from behind the wall in front of him. He froze, savouring each lilting rise and fall as you gave in to full-blown cackle. Wait for it.

He held his breath. You snorted. Loki grinned, letting himself bathe in the warmth of that laughter which used to lace his brightest moments. The nights, when you met after long days apart. He remembered when he would tickle you beneath his sheets in the Tower. When he would slide his hands over your squealing, curled form in apology, crawl on his knees beneath the covers and gently part your legs.

‘I just can’t help myself,’ he’d purr, kissing the smooth skin of your inner thigh. ‘Forgive me?’

And you always did. Until you hadn’t. You would rake your hand through his hair, lovingly humming his name as he ran his tongue up your plump slit; settling in to his long, languid worship. Loki sighed. He looked down in his lap, realising a thumb was digging into the palm of his clasped hands. He pushed it in harder, frowning. Fool.

Suddenly the door flew open. A red-faced Steve gripped the door-frame, breathing heavily. “Swap...with...me,” he gasped. Loki shook his head, heavy with feigned sympathy. “Afraid not, Rogers. Look, I unpacked and everything.” He pointed to the wardrobe. “Like a gentleman.”

Steve’s face flushed deeper, hanging his head in resignation. “Gosh-darnit,” he sighed under his breath. “Be downstairs and ready in five.”

A chorus of Blackcap birdsong fluttered and rolled over the bushes. Final frostings of morning clung to crisped leaves, slowly warming in the blast of breath-fog from three Avengers huddled around a large map. You watched with an amused smirk on your face, laughing inwardly that Steve thought a wardrobe full of Trepass could disguise their presence. Like three bears at a piglet’s tea party.

Thor held the compass, squinting. The rectangular instrument looked much like a stick of gum in his palm as he leant closer to the dial, searching for some unseen clue. You decided to have mercy.

“So you can see here,” you said gently, tracing your finger over the map, “to get to the lake we need to follow a bearing of 79 degrees….and we need to adjust for true North. Remember?” You moved the compass slightly. “Blast,” Thor growled. He was taking this very seriously. A bobble hat was pulled low on his brow, but even then, you could tell he was frowning. Loki chuckled derisively, smoothing a strand of inky hair from his jawline. You watched as it curled behind his ear. His beautiful, perfectly formed ear. “Volunteering for the next marker, Loki?” you asked calmly, watching his smug smirk fall. You switched back to Thor, now measuring points on the map diligently. Steve stood by his shoulder, taking notes on a small pad. “A-ha!” Thor shouted triumphantly. A dozen birds took off from the nearest tree, fleeing skyward.

Steve frowned. Stealth, it chided. The blonde god whipped his face to you in childish glee. “This way!” he pointed theatrically. You nodded, bathing in the pride spreading across the god of thunder’s face. It was Loki’s turn to frown. “Give me that,” he snipped, snatching the compass as Thor began to fold the map and lead the charge towards the next marker. “You’re just jealous brother. Clearly my skills of navigation are unmatched. Isn’t that so, Agent?” he postured loudly, clearing a branch from your path. It wasn’t often Thor truly had the upper hand. So you decided to push it a little higher. “Out of the three of you so far? Absolutely.” You beamed at him, seeing storm-clouds gather in Loki’s eyes out the corner of your own. His brows knitted together, chin pushing down into the thick roll of his scarf.

Thor hummed as you passed beneath his arm. “I always liked you, you know” he chuckled in hushed tones. Clearly, he’d seen the abject annoyance blossom on his brother’s face too.

You nodded conspiratorially, casting a glance back at your dejected ex as he picked his way over a patch of brambles, hands deep in his coat pockets. Steve followed behind, flicking through the pages of his pocketbook.

“Meh, it’s good for him,” you said diplomatically while shooting Thor a toothy grin.

He returned it.

Loki took each step carefully. He would be damned if a tangle of barbed shrubbery bested him the same day as his oaf of a brother.

He wouldn’t have gotten it without her help, he fumed; stepping quickly over a freshly steaming pile of suspicious pellets. His nose wrinkled, glancing up to where the two of you were sharing a moment. Blatant favouritism.

Gritting his teeth, his jaw nuzzled further beneath the coiled wool around his throat. A smile lit up your face as you shared some sort of inside jest with his brother. Loki remembered, all too well, how you used to look at him that way. How it was to bathe in the warm of your affection, the comfort of your hallowed inner circle.

He tried not to let his mind wander to your inner circle too much. The immediate twitch of his cock beneath the ghastly slacks was a timely reminder why. Steve’s shrill caw of warning came too late. “Watch your-” Loki froze, snarling as his eyes fell to the foot now wedged in a pile of shit. “How appropriate,” he sighed as he reluctantly pulled it free. He began to wipe it on the ground. “Just wipe it on the ground,” Rogers said. Loki's stare was daggers as he continued to do just that, cursing the Norns as you began to walk towards them. “What’s the hold up?” you said. Loki raised a hand to stop Steve from speaking, but alas.

“Laufeyson stepped in poop.” “Thank you, Rogers. I’m sure our ‘resident expert’ can see that.” Steve crouched down to his haunches, inspecting the boot-imprinted pile. “Looks like deer poop to me,” he observed diligently. “What do you think, Agent?” “Could be,” you said, matching his serious tone. “Nice spot.” Loki felt his jaw slacken.

What portal has opened and swallowed me to this unending nightmare.

He wiped the defiled heel of his clumpy, tan boot a final time, before marching up the ridge. He should be first. He had the compass, the ultimate instrument of inter-planetary survival, apparently. “Broth-” he started, before rocking back on his heels. “What is your problem?” he heard you hiss as you yanked the back of his jacket. Loki whipped round, every snippy retort that hovered on his lips evaporating as he saw your flushed face; wild with undisguised irritation. Steve was bumbling slowly up the hill, oblivious. “I…” Loki breathed, resisting the unfamiliar urge to tell the truth. You were still gripping a toggle that dangled from the back of his jacket. Loki looked at it, pausing a moment before refocusing with renewed vigour.

“I shouldn’t have to do this. It’s ridiculous, and you know it.” “Well why are you even here? Why don’t you just bugger off at a moment’s notice like you always do? Go whine to Heimdall or something?” Loki heard white noise bubble deep in his mind, rising to a roar as his vision tunnelled to the sight of your pupils blown wide with anger; lip trembling ever so slightly as you valiantly stood your ground. There she is, he thought with bizarre satisfaction. “Because I wouldn’t want to give the impression I’m not a team-player, would I?” he snarled through gritted teeth. You released your grip on his toggle with a scoff. “I’ll believe that when I see it. If you can last the whole trip, I’ll-”

“-You’ll what?” Loki heard himself say. The tone, he noted, was dangerously flirtatious.

You eyed him suspiciously.

“-I’ll be am-azed. The prim prince of Asgard, hacking it for a week out here. It might be good for you.” You see-sawed your palm. “But you know...low expectations.” Loki’s eyes narrowed as Steve emerged hovering over your shoulder. He suddenly reminded Loki very much of the geese parading on the kitchen walls. “I assure you, Agent, I shall pass your tests with flying colours.” He forced a smile. It hurt his cheeks in the cold. A little bow followed. A little flourish of his hand. He paused, baiting you. “I look forward to you proving me wrong, then,” you sniffed, re-adjusting the straps of your backpack.

Your eyes caught his a little longer than you’d intended.

Loki’s gaze fell to your lips, beginning to chap in the unforgiving English chill. How he wanted to capture them with his in that moment, moisten them with his breath and tongue and fiery adoration. To warm you, take care of you. As he should have when he had the chance, perhaps.

At the time, Loki wasn’t sure why - but nonetheless he held out the compass to Steve. “You take this one, Rogers.” “Alrighty then!” the captain quipped obliviously. His knees pumped up in a farcical jog down the ridge towards Thor, having an in-depth conversation with a passing sheep.

“Alrighty then,” you mimicked to yourself with quiet smile. Meeting Loki’s amused gaze, the smile fell. And without another word, you set off down the hill.

The god watched you pick your way gracefully over the autumnal landscape, breeze whipping your hair. He brushed his own from his eyes, pausing to reluctantly admire the rugged peaks and cliffs that curled in on their path. Burnt orange mingled with green, a rolling wave of seasons trickling through the vale. He could feel it all around him; through him – seeping beneath his skin, whether he willed it or no.

Change.

Chapter Two: Sticks and Stones A/N: Thank you so so much for reading this - if you did! I'm having so much fun with these bunch and I'm very excited to share this kind of ridiculous journey with you :) There won't be as many POV switches in subsequent chapters - we just needed it in this one. As always - love love to hear your thoughts. Gooooo Autumn!🍁

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@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog

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reaper2187 · 1 month

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Leighton murray x reader

In the hallowed halls of Essex College, a tale unfolds between two vibrant souls: Leighton Murray, the enigmatic and alluring senior, and you, the newly arrived freshman with a heart brimming with both trepidation and anticipation.

As you the campus, your senses are assailed by the vibrant tapestry of college life. Laughter echoes through the dormitories, mingling with the faint scent of coffee and the hum of laptops. It is amidst this vibrant atmosphere that you first encounter Leighton.

Tall and striking, with blonde hair that cascades over her shoulders, Leighton exudes an air of mystery. Her captivating blue eyes hold a tantalizing promise, a hint of untold experiences that pique your curiosity. An older student, she moves with an assured confidence that you find both intoxicating and intimidating.

As fate would have it, your paths cross again and again. In the crowded hallways of the library, you steal furtive glances at her as she pores over textbooks, her lips parted slightly in concentration. At a raucous party, you find yourself drawn to her laughter, a melody that cuts through the din like a silver bell.

One evening, as you sit alone in the common room, lost in a book, Leighton approaches you. With a warm smile, she breaks the ice and introduces herself. As you talk, you discover that beneath her enigmatic exterior lies a complex and intelligent woman. You are captivated by her insights, her quick wit, and the way her eyes seem to sparkle with a mischievous glint.

As the hours turn into a languid summer night, you find yourself drawn to Leighton's alluring charm. Your fingers brush against hers as you reach for a shared book, and electricity courses through your body. In that moment, you know that something profound has sparked between you.

In the weeks that follow, you and Leighton spend countless hours together. You explore the hidden nooks of the campus, from the library to the gardens. The bond between you grows stronger with each passing day, as you learn the intricacies of each other's desires and secrets.

Leighton's embrace is warm and inviting, her touch like a feather on your skin. Her kisses ignite a fire within you that consumes all inhibition. As you lie entangled in her arms, you feel a sense of liberation and fulfillment like never before.

However, the world outside of your private paradise threatens to tear you apart. Society's judgment looms over you like a dark cloud, whispering that your love is forbidden. But you refuse to be silenced.

Together, you navigate the choppy waters of college life, facing both adversity and triumphs with unwavering determination. You become each other's strength, a beacon of hope in a world that often tries to extinguish your flames.

In the tapestry of your life, Leighton Murray becomes more than just a lover. She is your confidant, your ally, and the catalyst for a profound transformation within yourself. As you graduate from Essex College, you carry with you the memories of your passionate love, a testament to the enduring power of human connection.

And so, as the pages of your life turn and you venture into the wider world, a piece of Leighton will always linger in your heart, a bittersweet reminder of a love that burned bright against the backdrop of youth and collegiate freedom.

#wlw #lesbian #wlw post #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #leighton murray imagine #renee rapp x fem!reader #reneè rapp x reader #reneé rapp x reader #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #the sex lives of college girls #tslocg

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superhaught · 1 month

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Guard Dog

Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader

Warning(s): None!

Word Count: 1000, Part 1/?

Just a little Leighton fic based on this tiktok.

You stirred your drink lazily and refreshed the app one more time just for good measure.

No new messages.

You turned your phone off and sighed then finished off your drink in one gulp. The bartender swung by and cleared your empty glass and offered you another and you shook your head, saying, “just water, please,” hoping to sober up before heading home and putting this failure of a Friday night behind you.

A pretty blonde girl walked up to the empty barstool beside you and barked out her order to the bartender while preemptively handing him her ID, then she loosely directed her next words to you, “excuse me, is this seat taken?”

“Not anymore, go ahead.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything in response as she sat in the stool and began rummaging through her tiny purse, pulling out a compact and touching up her face of makeup.

“Did you have a date or something?” The blonde asked, not turning to look at you.

“I don’t know if it was a date,” you replied, “but someone was supposed to meet me. I’ve been waiting for over an hour.”

She closed her compact and returned it to her bag as the bartender was sliding a cocktail across the counter to her.

“And they haven’t messaged you, I assume?”

“Nope.” You responded.

“Asshole.”

You shrugged, “I wasn’t that excited about it anyways.”

The blonde nodded and sipped from her drink with an elegance that was both admirable and off-putting. You envisioned her taking family vacations to Napa, feeling comfortable on yachts, purchasing a new pair of red-bottoms every season.

The woman’s attention had been captured by her own phone, and you started to long for your bed.

You were waiting to flag down the bartender and get your bill when a random guy approached you, carrying two beers. You rolled your eyes without him seeing.

“Hey girl, you are looking fine, let me enjoy a beer witchu.”

You began, “oh, I was actually just-”

The blonde woman interjected, “excuse me, do you like, know this man?”

The dude groaned and slouched, “aw, come on we were just talking!”

She held up an index finger in front of him, “silence, mouth-breather, I wasn’t speaking to you yet,” then she looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer.

You shook your head, “no, I don’t.”

“Do you want to know him?”

“Not really.”

She nodded and turned to the offending guy, “she doesn’t want to talk to you. Goodbye.”

“What the fuck? I was just trying to be nice!”

“Well, you’re not being nice, you're being a creep and she doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Fucking bitch,” the man scoffed at blonde.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat up a little taller, “yep. Now remove yourself from the premises before I have security do it for you.”

The man raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly, glaring at your rescuer, before finally turning and storming out of the bar with two of his buddies right behind him.

You exhaled, “Jesus… thank you for that.”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, “oh my god, of course. Don’t even mention it.”

The bartender returned and passed your receipt to you but the woman grabbed the slip of paper between manicured fingers and spoke to the bartender, “no, please put her bill on my tab. Leighton Murray. Thank you.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that.”

“I know but I’m going to, you’ve had a shitty night.”

“It’s really not necessary-”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s nothing.” The blonde was putting her foot down and you felt completely disarmed by her. She clicked on her phone, “you were leaving, right? I’m calling you and Uber and I’ll walk you out, I’m not having you leave by yourself. He seemed like the type to wait in the parking lot.”

“You’re… that’s really above and beyond, I can’t accept-”

“I insist. Now, where are you heading?”

You considered denying her. You considered saying, thank you, but no thank you.

“Essex College.”

She raised an eyebrow again, “are you a student?”

You nodded, “I am, yeah. Junior.”

She smiled, “oh, wow! I’m a senior at Essex. I can’t believe I don’t know you. Come on, let’s just head back to campus together. I’m Leighton.”

You returned her smile and introduced yourself. She echoed your name back and then took hold of your hand, you thought she was just going to shake it but instead she stood up and gently led you out of the bar.

You glanced around the parking lot and didn’t see the group of guys, “seems all clear…”

“You can never be too careful,” she answered with a shrug, “do you want me to leave you be?”

You couldn’t help but look her up and down. She was stunning. Taller than you in heels, and likely without them, too. She was still holding your hand. Her skin was soft and you could smell her perfume. She used her free hand to run her fingers through her hair, pushing it back, and you were done for.

You looked at her lips and unknowingly bit down on your own, “No. I don’t want that…”

She smirked. A black car pulled up beside you and Leighton gestured for you to get in ahead of her.

You squeezed her hand and then opened the car door. She lightly touched your lower back as you got into the car and it made you shudder.

You quietly looked out the window as the car took you back to your college campus. You found yourself thinking about how it wasn’t fair for women like Leighton to exist because your hands were shaking and she hadn’t even done anything. You balled your hands into fists and sighed, not meaning to make a noise when you did.

“Is everything okay?” Leighton asked.

You were shocked out of your thoughts, “Yes! Well, no… I mean, yes, everything is fine, it’s just…”

“Just…?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you met the blonde’s eyes, “I don’t want my night to end just yet.”

#leighton murray #slocg #the sex lives of college girls #reneé rapp #leighton murray x reader #leighton murray fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #original writing #credit to Ansley on tiktok for inspo!

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megumimania · 9 months

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AOT LONDON BOY HCS PT 2

featuring: reiner, onyankopon, armin

a/n: this is part two of these hcs, part one is here! thanks for tuning in its kinda rushed my bad 😪, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

ARMIN

-armin would be from islington or finchley maybe even south, but I don’t see him living in like bougie areas such as kensington or chelsea or like richmond

- him and eren went to the same primary and secondary together

-armin was literally his get out of jail free card because of his stellar reputation in academics

-he always gets free stuff from the corner shop or the chicken and chip shop

-doesn’t own a car, he either bikes or takes the tube because he cares about the environment and doesn’t want to add onto the extra pollution in london

-his dress sense is very casual like a t shirt, a pair of loose fitted trousers and some trainers but when he cant be bothered he’ll wear a tech fleece

-he has a very good sense of direction, like he knows the fastest routes for anything, like when eren and connie dragged him to carni (if you went this year im saur jealous 😩 but anyways) and it was time to get home armin found a quicker route that got them back pretty fast

-knows all the best secret spots in london for anything! which makes hanging out with him more fun because you experience a new part of london when you’re together

-he isnt a fan of eren’s scamming ways but when eren asks for help he always answers as long as he’s not a part of it

-london men i feel like are terrible with their feelings but armin is the exception, he would be very open with you about his feelings and such

-reads so much, you’ll catch him at hyde park or greenwich park reading till the sun sets

-he smokes cigarettes but he’s trying to cut it out for you

-his playlist would be very diverse since he’s been brought up in a multicultural area, like it would go from bashment, to rnb, drill to pop

-unlike his unserious counterparts *cough cough* eren and connie, he’s very loyal!

ONYANKOPON

-my ghanaian king, shoutout to my ghanaians!!

-he speaks twi so well that people forget he was brought up in the uk

-he would be from peckham or lewisham for suree, he’s deffo been dragged around by his mum round rye lane market on a saturday morning carrying that trolley with him

-he goes to a pentecostal church, he’s always leading youth service and helping out at church events.

-the aunties love him for this because he’s the perfect son that they don’t have and they just love him in general

-ony can cook and im being for real, so you guys never eat out unless ony wants to show you to a new niche restaurant somewhere

-he has snap but doesn’t have a bitmoji because he thinks it’s immature 😕 but eventually he caves and makes one because you ask him too

-hes always promoting his boys stuff whether that be music,

-he deffo went to an all boys secondary and then he went to a mixed sixth form after, he gives me those vibes

-he used to go to the library to link girls after school 😭 he had a big playboy phase but hes calmed down

-he used to be one of those people at stratford westfield trying to sell you magazines before you enter

-hes not stingy with his money, hes always spoiling the people he loves

-he has a bunch of caps and grills that he likes to rotate out weekly, he has great style

-he works in corporate london so its rare that you dont see him outside of a suit and tie but he always makes time for you

-ony is always holding your bag for dear life when you go to bait areas like oxford street or westfields or like the tourist spots because people be getting their shit stolen loool

-he loves late night tesco trips anything that he can do at night i.e late night walks, drives etc

-bossman is always giving him discounts on stuff because ony is loyal customer.

REINER

-look at that man and tell me he wouldnt be from essex tell me!! like thats pure dagenham material right there

-if you search up a typical person from essex, he would come up

-he probably owns those skintight chinos with those ugly polos with the church shoes

-he tries to downplay his accent a bit since sometimes its hard to understand him but when hes upset his accent comes through in full force

-always at spoons or at the club till early hours

-reiner gives me bricklayer vibes so thats what im gonna roll with

-when he comes home from work in summer hes like hot and sweaty but it makes his biceps glow so its kinda sexy idk

-has a bunch of tattoos, most of them are birthdays of family members and a picture of his grandma who passed away

-has a british bulldog called belle, the dog is fucking scary but reiner thinks the world of her and thinks she can do no wrong

-listens to mainly dnb, garage, techno

-downs pints at the pub like it’s nothing, he has a high alcohol tolerance

-proper geezer that’s all i have to say tbh!

#aot x reader #armin x reader #onyankopon x reader #attack on titan #aot fluff #aot headcanons #vina writes #aot reiner #aot x black!reader #black writblr #aot x black reader #armin attack on titan #armin arlert x reader #aot onyankopon #reiner braun #aot

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five-miles-over · 8 months

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Tom Hiddleston Characters: How They Would Propose (To You)

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Prince Loki Odinson, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, James Conrad, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Also, my sincerest apologies - they all turned into mini-fics.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

Reverend Will would propose to you after a Sunday roast dinner, after your family invited him to your home. You were helping to clear the table with the rest of the ladies in your family when Will coughed to announce his presence. At once, everyone cleared the dining room, leaving you alone with the vicar.

"A word please?" He politely called you by name, his hands clasped in front of him. Will sat you down in one of the empty chairs. Gods how he wanted to reach out and tuck one of your stray hairs behind your ear in that very moment, one of the intimate things that he longed to do with you. Intimate things that would be proper in the eyes of God if you were his lawfully wedded wife. He did not sit down, and gently began talking to you. "For some time, I have been charmed by you. Not just your looks, that is not to say that you are not a lovely woman. You are most lovely, but I have also been charmed by your kindness, your humility, and your…virtue."

Will knelt before you, looking up with the most earnest gaze. "If you will bestow upon me the fortune of being your husband, then in return I shall do everything to keep you safe and comfortable. I shall speak to your father, and we will be wedded in holy matrimony. You and I shall walk together upon this path of life, and I have no doubt that a virtuous woman like you will aid me in carrying out what the Lord decrees of us. My sweetest, please say that you will marry me."

Henry V from The Hollow Crown

With Henry, there was not much of a proposal to begin with. The marriage between you and the King of England was arranged by your father and his men, along with the king and his men. Still, Henry coaxed your father into having at least one private audience with you before the wedding ceremonies, so that he may properly court you as any suitor would.

'My dearest lady," Henry began as soon as he was alone with you in his study while your father and his men stood vigil outside. "Lower thy veil, and let me behold your face." He reached forward and removed the hood of your cloak, smiling as he beheld your beauty for the first time. "Cheeks rosier than the flowers that bloom in springtime. Your lips and eyes are so enticing, they call to me like sirens. Yours is a face that I shall never tire of seeing.

I confess to you, my lady, that words are not my greatest strength. Were it so easy that I could simply strap on armor or fire an arrow into a target or vault into my saddle for a wife, I should quickly vault for a wife. Alas, tis not so. For a woman's heart is truly one of the most difficult conquests to embark upon. Nevertheless, tis a conquest that I shall duly pursue if you can deign to love me.

If you can love such a man as me, someone whose words are not their strongest suit and someone whose fidelity to you is true, then take me. Take a soldier, and in taking a soldier, you will take a king." Henry knelt before you and offered you his hand. "Sweetest of all maidens, canst thou love me?"

Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard

"I have called you to discuss a matter of great importance, my lady." Loki enunciated the formal title at the end in an attempt to conceal the butterflies in his stomach. He summoned you to the palace gardens at the house before twilight, when the sky would be decorated with streaks of orange and pink. You walked alongside him through the bushes and the groves of flowers. Loki clasped his hands behind her back, walking as if he ruled every inch of earth on which he stepped.

He continued, "Yes, tis true that Thor, my brother, is the one whom my father has decreed to ascend the throne of Asgard," The younger prince of Asgard looked forward with a solemn expression while you listened with intrigue. "But he is incompetent." Loki turned to you. "He is idiotic and brash. You know as well as I do that he does not encompass the values of a king.

"Was he not the one who wished to invade Jotunheim alone, my prince?" You stopped in your tracks, just as the sun began setting into the horizon behind you.

"Yes, he was. It was all his idea, my lady." Loki did not bother to include his role in instigating Thor, it would not help him in this moment whatsoever. If he delayed this moment any further, he was convinced the words would be stuck in his throat, forever unable to escape. "You are one of the few people with whom I can share these thoughts, my lady." He sighed, his gaze fixated upon you and your beauty. "It is why I have called you here. In the coming future, I will need to protect Asgard from my brother's foolishness. And for that I should like to have a worthy companion by my side."

Loki conjured a shining dagger with a gold hilt out of thin air and promptly fell to one knee before you. The hilt of the dagger was engraved with the words, 'Min hærr, duonningen av mitt hjerte' (My beloved, Queen of my heart) Still on bended knee, Loki looked up at you with an expression of innocence that you never knew existed within him - wide eyes, baited breath, a meek expression. As if all his life were being wagered on a single thing right now.

"I wish to make you my wife," Loki declared, his lips trembling. "Should you accept, I will bring my proposal to your family, and then we will be wed with due ceremony. And if you decide otherwise, then I shall…" he swallowed, "I shall respect your choice."

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

"This looks like something stolen from the Graham Norton Show." You raised an eyebrow when Loki handed you an orange and purple card.

"It's a scavenger hunt." Loki said with a twinkle in his eye. "Every clue leads you to the next one."

"I know how a scavenger hunt works, Loki." You rolled your eyes and flipped over the card. "Was this your idea, or is this some ridiculous team-bonding activity put together by Steve Rogers?"

"No. You see,…I have some errands to do, but at the same time, I have an obligatory excursion with the Lady Valkyrie."

You crossed your arms. "So why the scavenger hunt?"

Loki brightly answered. "Well, it makes the errands all the more fun!"

"Alright, but you owe me, Loki."

"Good girl." The God of Mischief kissed you not the cheek and disappeared into thin air.

You glanced down and saw that the first card, which told you to pick up six cupcakes ordered under Loki's name. The cupcakes were from a specific café….that just so happened to be the place where you and Loki had your first date, which was set up by a far-too-enthusiastic Thor. The moment you got there, a waiter brought you a "complimentary" cupcake of your favorite flavor…along with another orange and purple card.

The second card took you to the library, on the pretext of picking up a book that was on hold for Loki. There, the librarian handed you the book - Divine Comedy by Dante - and another book that you recognized. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of the first pieces of "Midgardian literature" that you introduced to Loki, a book that you were all too happy to fangirl over. But inside the book was - yes- another orange and purple card.

The third card sent you to pick up Loki's dry-cleaning. (Really, Loki? Dry cleaning?) At the dry-cleaners, the person at the register handed you a transparent garment bag containing a black tuxedo with a ruffled white shirt. And then you were given a second garment bag with an emerald green gown embellished with diamonds. You couldn't help but stare a few moments at the pretty, expensive-looking gown. Before the person at the register could hand you another card, you made a mental note to ask Loki about the gown and whom it was for. You guessed it was probably for himself for the times he was feeling fabulous. Actually, Loki also liked to wear absolutely nothing when he was feeling his most fabulous…but that didn't matter right now.

The fourth card took you to the park where Loki confessed his love for you for the first time, on the pretext of picking up Loki's forgotten jacket and buying a bouquet of white flowers.

The fifth card took you across the city just to get a particular bottle of liquor that Loki had liked. Okay, now this guy was having a little too much fun with you right now.

You were relieved when the sixth card, given to you by the liquor store clerk, led you back to the Avengers compound, to the same room where you began this entire scavenger hunt. You huffed a little, setting the box of cupcakes, the books, the two garment bags, Loki's jacket, the flowers, and liquor gently on a table. "Loki? Loki, where are you?"

Loki stood in the middle of the Avengers' common room, wearing polished gold armor over a black and green leather tunic with long, dark trousers. His hair was combed perfectly in place, and his hands clasped behind his back. He stood surrounded by a few candles and fairy lights hanging against the curtains.

"Okay, I need answers…" You sighed, already tired from running around all afternoon. "Loki, I got your things, just tell me what the gown is for and the…the liquor and the…Are you throwing a party or something?"

"I'm getting married."

"What?!" You gulped, reaching for the nearest couch. "I…what? You're getting married, why didn't you tell me? And…" You felt your head start to spin, preparing yourself for the worst. Whatever happened to all the times he said he loved you? Was he just using you to put together some kind of romantic gesture for someone else, just a tool?! Perhaps this is what you get for letting the God of Mischief into your life. Betrayal. "Well, I hope they make you happy, Loki." You relented, putting your head in your hands.

"She does."

"Good." You murmured, trying your best not to cry in this moment. That was the last thing you wanted him to see. "Is that gown for her too?"

"Hm-hm. Of course, it'll probably end up on the floor after the engagement party, hehe."

"Loki, I am in no mood for your jokes right now." After a few moments, you looked up.

"Come on,…have a sense of humor."

"NO!" You yelled, getting up from the couch. "No, I will not have a sense of humor right now! You used me! You used me, and lied to me. You told me to do all of these errands, like picking up dry cleaning, and buying liquor, without telling me that you were going to propose to someone else! You could have at least told me, just so I'd have some kind of closure. But no, you couldn't even think to do that. You told me it was a scavenger hunt, like I wasn't worth knowing the truth.

I...I did this because I care about you, Loki! I care about you like some kind of idiot who actually thought that you might like me the same way that I liked you. That right there, making me like you might just be the worst thing you have ever done me." You took a moment to breathe, and ran your hands through your hair.

"Ugh…And you made me even pick up her engagement dress! What kind of person makes someone do that?!" You couldn't even think about the words you were spitting out, too busy with the hot tears clouding your vision.

"The kind of person who knows how good it'll look when you wear it."

"What?!" You were taken aback all of a sudden.

Loki approached you with a hint of nervousness. "Darling, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know I'm not easy to be with, that I drive you mad sometimes, and I make you put up with a lot. I...I should've practiced this more." He laughed under his breath. "Why didn't I?" Blinking, he pushed his hair back before continuing.

"What I'm trying to say is,...my life has never been the same since I met you. You're the most steadfast ally, a wonderful friend, and best of all, you are the most passionate and loyal person I have ever known. I could never imagine my life without you, and I never want to. That's how much I love you."

The God of Mischief fell to one knee, and held up a small emerald ring with a gold band.

"Will you marry me?"

Bil Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, sweetheart." Bill pulled his father's car into a driveway, and took your hand. "Just close your eyes, alright?"

"Alright…" After a few steps, you could hear Bill opening a door and the sound of a shopkeeper's bell, along with the muted conversations of various patrons. The scents of vanilla and grease reached you almost immediately.

Bill held you close and whispered that you could open your eyes now.

When you opened your eyes, you laughed a little. "We haven't been here in a while…"

"You remember it?"

"How could I ever forget?" You kissed him on the cheek, and let him find a table for you.

Bill's proposal began with him taking you to the milkshake diner where the two of you had your first date. After a bit of small talk over a banana split, Bill not-so-discretely excused himself. While you sat at the table with your spoon and checked your phone, Bill made his way to the jukebox with his hands in his jeans' pockets, feeling the small box inside. He'd almost thought about wearing a suit for this occasion, but his mum said it would make you suspicious. And his father suggested hiding the ring inside your ice cream to be more romantic , but Bill was terrified by the idea of you accidentally choking. Yes, keeping the ring with him was a better idea.

Bill took a deep breath and slipped a coin into the jukebox, flipping through the various tracks to find one of the songs you enjoyed. When he found one, he pressed play and called your name. Bill extended his hand out, offering to dance with you. He twirled you, and the two of you swayed in time with the music, smiling all the while. At the end of the song, Bill proudly kissed you on the lips.

He gently said your name, and pushed a bit of hair out of your face. "You're the one I want to dance with to every song…There's just no one like you, no one I could ever dream of that's just as wonderful as you are." Bill reached in his pocket for the small box, and fell to one knee, not caring who might be watching you in the diner. Inside the small box was a 0.3-carat diamond ring with a silver band. "Would you make me the happiest man in the whole world, and marry me?"

Caius Martius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

Coriolanus invited your family to dine with him and his mother one night on the pretext of an important matter concerning two important families of Roman nobility. It was not the first time he'd done such a thing, inviting your family to break bread with him and his mother. He had even visited your father's home before, sharing wine with your father and your brothers from time to time. It was through those meetings that Coriolanus fell more in love with your smile, the way you bit your lip when you were thinking,…and even the way your laugh infected him like a plague. And if there was anything more deadly to him than your simple, unadulterated laughter, then it was your beauty which had him fighting the urge to smile whenever you walked into a room or whenever he heard your voice.

But despite his best efforts, it became quickly aware to everyone in your family how besotted the general was with you. The way his head unintentionally bowed whenever he was in your presence, as if you were the sun and he would go blind if he looked you straight in the eye, never went unnoticed. The fact that you were the only person who could make him laugh, and that the simple mention of your name was enough to make the powerful General and conqueror of Corioles lower his usual barking voice made your family - and anyone else in the general's presence - giggle under their breath.

So when everyone had finished the prima mensa, Coriolanus stood up and raised his cup. "I have called you here tonight, to make a proposition," he declares with the same voice that he would use to speak to the Senate. "An alliance between our families…" The general turned his gaze to you for a moment, and exhaled to calm his racing heart, which only quickened when you looked back up at him. "If you will bestow upon me this honor, I wish to make your daughter…my wife. She is virtuous, and kind,…endowed with a noble background."

He waved for two of the servants of his household to present your mother and father with gifts of imported silk and valuable coins. And for you, the general had his servant gift place a set of golden jewelry - a girdle, five bracelets, and a layered necklace with rubies - in your lap. Underneath the girdle was a small piece of parchment with the words,

"I long to see you wearing these on our wedding night, my lady. Only these."

You turned red, and looked up and the general, politely expressing your thanks.

"Should you accept," Coriolanus gave you a nod and turned to your family. "We shall make our alliance official in the presence of the gods. Your daughter shall be my wife, and I her husband. I will defend her from harm and protect her, as I have defended Rome time and time again. Your daughter will be cared for, and all I ask for in return, is your fidelity. Pledge to me your allegiance, for I shall need your influence when the time comes for the elections in the Senate.

Instead of a dowry give me your loyalty, and I swear that your priceless gem of a daughter will want for nothing for as long as I live. Do I have your word?"

Oakley from Unrelated

"Let's get married." Oakley off-handedly said while the two of you stood outside, leaning against the wall while he smoked a cigarette.

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"

"No." He took another drag of his cigarette and turned to you with his ocean blue eyes and tousled, dirty blond curls. "We should get married."

"Who are you and what have you done with Oakley?"

"What, you don't think I'm good enough to marry you?" He protested.

Shaking your head, you laughed. "No, it's not that…"

"Well, then what is it?" Oakley crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at the sight of you laughing. "We have fun together, we make each other laugh,…we look good together, especially when naked-"

That was enough for you to playfully hit him on the shoulder, causing him to chuckle. He continued, "We like each other. We have this great relationship."

"But are you sure this is what you want?" You asked. "Don't you want to explore, try things? Do stuff before you're tied down?"

"Why would I do that? When there's this…beautiful, funny, smart, and sexy girl right there with me, I'm not even looking at anyone else." Oakley simply countered. "I like what we have, and i don't want to let it go. We can travel, explore the world, and I'll do it all with you." There was no sign of hesitation in his voice, but maybe it was just the cigarette fueling his courage. He came closer to you, and looked dead serious. "I don't want what we have to be just something we try for as long as we can, something we leave up to chance. I want forever with you."

"Forever?"

"Forever." Oakley knelt before you, his eyes going from a vivid cyan to a soft, almost pale bag blue. "I don't have a ring but…" He removed his necklace and presented it to you like an offering at an altar, calling your name. "Marry me."

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

Jonathan had been working with MI-6 for almost two years, embarking on various mission for them after he gained acclamation for helping to carry out Operation Limpet. He, along with officer Angela Burr, took down the infamous arms dealer Richard Roper once and for all.

Since then, Jonathan found himself a new home in London and got back in touch with you, the one who stole his heart back when he was still working as a night manager. He didn't know how much he truly missed you until you answered his letter, telling him about the twists and turns your life had taken since your last encounter with Pine. After about three weeks of exchanging handwritten letters - simply because they reminded you both of a simpler time and felt more personal - with Jonathan using a pseudonym to protect you, he invited you to visit London for a holiday.

And those five days you spent in London were some of the best five days of Jonathan's life. He delighted in your innocence, the way you happily took his arm and strolled through the city, randomly surprising him with kisses. Arm in arm, without a care in the world except for each other, enjoying all that life would have to offer…This is how it should be, Jonathan thought to himself as he gazed at the sparkle in your eyes, the color in your cheeks. He listened as you talked about everything you liked about London, everything that disgusted you, and everything you hoped for in the future, simply taking in the opportunity to just be with you.

After a few moments, you asked him about what he wanted in the future, and all Jonathan had to say was one word.

"You."

You looked up from your cup of tea. "Me?"

He took a breath. "Yes." Jonathan affectionately said your name, and reached for your hand. "I never grew up in a house with both parents, doting on me." He told you about how his life up until joining MI-6 was an abominable quest for order. How his time in the military and working in the hotel business was part of an aim to find a direction in his life, and how little happiness it truly brought him. How alone he felt whenever his life wasn't being threatened.

Jonathan sighed, not used to telling so much about himself in a single conversation, laying his heart out on the table to be cut into and devoured. "I promised myself that I would find the one person that I could care deeply for, and love them. I promised myself that I would make friends, find a home…a place to belong. Maybe someday become a parent."

You looked upon him lovingly. "That's beautiful, Jonathan."

He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. "I want all of those things, and I want them with you." Jonathan declared, quiet enough for the two of you to hear. "These past days with you have been…incredible. When I look at you, I see everything that I have wanted, the life that I want to be living five years from now, ten years from now."

He continued, "You make me believe in a future that's worth building. The way you smile…, the way you look upon me and everyone with stars in your eyes…I want to be the one who keeps that smile on your face, the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who kisses you good night, and the first one you see in the morning. I want to be the one you come home to every evening, the shoulder you lean on."

Jonathan stroked the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. "I know it's soon, but if there is anything that I've learned, it's that when you see something worth keeping in your life, you do everything you can not to let her go. You just do it." He looked into your eyes. "Marry me?"

James Conrad from Kong: Skull Island

It was the third time this week James had a nightmare. After thrashing and groaning, fighting an invisible beast, James found it in himself to call you - his neighbor whom he'd been dating for two years - on the telephone. His forehead and his chest were dripping with sweat, his expression one of agony, when you approached his bed. It was obvious that he had been in a lot of pain.

James wasn't the type of person who wanted to expound upon the terrors he was feeling; he was a man of action who preferred expressing his emotions nonverbally. So, you respected that and simply talked about mundane things, things about civilian life that would temporarily distract James. As you both fell asleep, you made a mental note to remind James setting another appointment with his therapist, the one MONARCH had prescribed for him.

You woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't unusual for James to go out on an early morning walk to be alone with his thoughts. It was one of the things he'd learned from his therapist when he asked about how to be a better sweetheart to you while recovering from his trauma. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with a heavy heart, hoping it wouldn't be too long before you saw James again.

While you styled your hair, you heard the door unlock. James walked inside, carrying a bag of breakfast pastries. "Good morning." He greeted you in a low, casual voice.

"Good morning…" You would've asked if he slept well, but given the events of last night, that question made no sense. "I'm sorry I stayed over."

"No need to apologize." James set the pastries down and placed a kettle on the stove. While the water rose to a boil, James unwrapped the two chocolate croissants he bought, and glanced up to find you standing in the kitchen. You walked up to him slowly, and without missing a beat, James gently kissed you with an arm gently holding your waist. He murmured your name again, his breath warm against your lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

James gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before going into his bedroom. "I brought breakfast for us both. Should I make us some eggs?"

"No need…" You watched James open one of his drawers. "Before I forget, do you want to make an appointment with your therapist?"

"Uh, I will." James returned to the kitchen with a small box in his right hand. "Thanks for reminding me."

"What is that?"

James took a deep breath. "Just something to thank you for last night,…and for everything you've done."

"James, you really didn't have to-"

"No. I've been wanting to do this for a year, it's time."

Your breath caught in your throat as James opened the box to reveal a small, simple sapphire ring. He began, "I should've done this sooner, and I'm a fool for not doing so." James fell to one knee, and you gasped. "Darling,…Over the years I've known you, you have helped me…become a man again. You've remained by my side as I've made attempts to return to civilian life. You've comforted me during my worst hours, and you have given me something worth living for."

"James…"

"You're someone worth fighting for." He laughs a little. "I love you. And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you feel loved and caring for you in the ways that you have cared for me.

Darling, will you marry me?"

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander

"Marry me." Magnus groaned with relief when you brought him a plate of eggs, some coffee, and an aspirin. He was laying on your couch, hungover after a night out with you and some of his mates from the police station.

You simply rolled your eyes and laughed a little. "Eat your eggs, you'll feel better with some food inside you."

Magnus kept his eyes on you while you both drank coffee, his headache slowly diminishing. "That a yes?"

"No, Magnus." You flatly said. "You had a lot to drink last night. Just…eat your eggs and finish your coffee. I'm not saying yes to a guy that passed out on my couch after throwing up into the bushes outside."

He grimaced. "I did that?…Sorry." Magnus looked down and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Whatever, it was just a question, not like I meant it or anything." He pretended to brush off the matter. "You doing anything else today?"

"Tidying the house. You?"

Magnus closed his eyes for a moment to taste the savory flavor of the eggs. "i have a few things to do at the station for Kurt. Won't take long."

You and Magnus finished breakfast in silence before Magnus thanked you for letting him crash on your couch. "I'll see you soon." He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You almost found it funny, the way he groaned for you to marry him, and chuckled to yourself. For all of his sarcastic quips and his cold exterior, there were times Magnus was an unintentional sweetheart. You'd known him for about seven months, how endearing he was whenever he tried to show off at darts or pool. You thought about the time he brought you soup every night when you had a flu that lasted for a week. And during that one time he showed up late to one of your date nights because of a case, he spent the rest of the evening simply snuggling with you until you fell asleep in each others' arms. It was one of the first times you'd ever seen him smiling so blissfully like a newborn baby.

About a few hours later, you could hear it rain outside, a bolt of thunder rumbling across the sky. While caught up in some trashy television, you heard a knock on the door.

There was Magnus, standing outside drenched from head to toe.

"Magnus, what are you-"

"I meant it." He confessed while the raindrops rolled down the sides of his face. "Marry me." He repeated when you asked him what he was talking about. Magnus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small gold ring with three tiny diamonds. "You're the most perfect person in this entire world. And it's not just because you make the best eggs." He said, making you laugh. "You're stunning, even when you've just woken up. You put up with a lot, and…I can't really say what it is you do to me, but I can't help it. I…I…"

"I love you too, you crazy detective!" You finished.

"So, is that a yes?" Magnus asked again, with a big grin on his face as he presented the ring to you.

Robert Laing from High-Rise

"We need to talk." Robert broke the silence while the two of you shared a candlelit dinner in your flat.

All traces of a smile disappeared from your face instantly. Usually nothing good ever followed those four words.

You put your fork down. "What did you want to talk about?"

Robert looked you in the eye. "I moved to this high-rise to be alone, to be away from people. This…a relationship was the last thing that I wanted." He blinked, looking down at his plate for a moment. Then, he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

You tensed in your seat, preparing for the worst. God, Robert. If he was trying to break up with you, then he just picked the worst time possible.

The doctor stood up. "I thought I wasn't built for love…So I tried to be alone as much as I could, avoiding every chance to be attached to someone." He swallowed. "And then you came."

You let out a sigh, assuming that Robert was going to say something awful about your relationship.

"It was like I couldn't even recognize myself anymore. What you did to me…" Robert called your name and walked over to you. "I cannot go a day without hearing your quippy words…, without seeing you when I come home,…without kissing you. It's more than anything I have felt in years." He confessed, his fingers tracing the back of your chair. "If you were to disappear from my life, it would feel like losing everything I've ever known. And…truthfully, the idea of that terrifies me. Maybe I could live without you,…but I don't know if I would be able to call it living.

"So what are you trying to say?" You murmured.

Robert sighed. "Forgive me, I'm not used to having these conversations."

"It's okay."

"You did it again." The doctor remarked. "You're making me fall in love with you, sweetheart." Robert went to the coat closet where he kept his blazer, and pulled a small box from one of the pockets. He returned to your side. "What I'm trying to say is,…that I'm in love with you. I'm in love not only with you, but with the way that you make me…feel things. The way that you remind me that there's a future ahead of us both. A future that can be much more than just dreary parties and squabbles between the upper floors and lower floors. You make me very happy, darling, and I think that you should know that."

Robert took a deep breath and fell to one knee, next to your chair with the box opened to reveal a silver ring with a diamond heart. "Would you marry me, and make me an even happier man?"

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

You were sitting on the swing set in the garden of your family estate, enjoying the mid-morning sun and the gentle breeze. Idly moving your legs back and forth, you played with a small cluster of Baby's Breath in your lap. It was nice to be away from the bustling drama and the incessant gossip, and instead be surrounded by fresh air.

"My lady." You were awoken from your reverie by a smooth, vaguely familiar baritone that belonged to none other than Thomas Sharpe. He was a guest who'd been staying at an inn near your family's home, having joined your family for supper at least ten times in the past two weeks. In your eyes, he seemed mysterious and yet full of stories to tell, always having an anecdote about a place he'd visited or a trick to show you and your siblings. There was something about him that made you drawn to him as soon as he walked into a room, you were unable to articulate what it was.

"Good morning. What brings you here, Baronet?"

The baronet gave you a smile, and leaned against a tree, watching you enjoy yourself on the swings. "I was speaking to your father and his, erm, associates about a business venture."

"About clay, right? Mining it?"

Thomas nodded. "Precisely, my lady. And you, have you been enjoying your morning?"

You blushed as he took a step closer. "Yes, Baronet."

"No need for such formal titles now, my lady. We're not at a ball, nor are we at supper. ''Thomas' will do." He gently said. "May I share your company for a while, my lady, if it would not be much of a bother for you?"

You allowed him, giving the Baby's Breath to him as a token of affection. No, not a token of affection. Simply a nice gesture that would hopefully give you a place in Thomas's good books. Maybe he might even ask you for a dance at the next ball.

"Will you be attending the ball this Saturday, Bar- I mean, Thomas?"

He nodded, taking a moment to smell the flowers. "You?"

"I will."

"And have you chosen a gown, my lady?" Thomas decided to humor you a little. He smiled while you sheepishly described the dress that you had your eye on for that special occasion. "Well, I'm sure you will look divine wearing it, my lady. Do you often spend time here in the gardens, all by yourself."

"Yes. I enjoy the flowers, and the breeze. It's beautiful when the weather is pleasant."

"I can imagine, my lady. It's been a long time since I have relaxed in a garden." Thomas places the Baby's breath in his front pocket. "My lady, there is something I wish to know of you."

You stopped swinging, and asked him what it was.

"I would like to know if you would be interested in marrying me." Thomas knelt by your side, looking up at you with eyes that bore the same hue as a cloudless sky. "For some time, my lady, I have admired your numerous charms from afar. And with each passing day, my affections for you have grown stronger. I find myself thinking about you at the most unpropitious times of day." He sighs, "While I may not be a man of great fame or great brawn or of great wealth, I am a man of dignity." Thomas promised you, despite knowing it was a blatant lie. "I will make sure that you lack nothing as my wife. And to treat you with nothing but the compassion and the love that you deserve. All I ask in return, is that you try to find it in your heart to give me even an iota of your affections.

Would you be willing to do that, my lady?"

Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

Ever since you moved into the flat Mr. Hiddleston bought for you, the most powerful man in London always had a designated town car sent to pick you up from work or school every day. His favorite chauffeur would show up at the same time every weekday, give you a friendly greeting, and drop you off at your flat. And once you got there, you'd be greeted by a doorman that Mr. Hiddleston personally hired to make sure that you reached safely.

Today, however, the chauffeur did not drop you off at your flat. At least, not right away. "Monsieur Hiddleston had something different in mind for today," he said with a small grin, like he knew something was going on. The chauffeur dropped you off at the nail salon for a manicure paid for by your powerful beau.

After being pampered by the nail technician for about forty-five minutes, you returned to the town car to find a bag in the backseat with the word 'Harrods' on it. "You went shopping?" You asked the chauffeur while he drove you to your flat.

"Non, it was all Monsieur Hiddleston. He was keeping this dress on hold, and asked me to pick it up for you. He would like you to wear it tonight."

You thanked the chauffeur with a smile. Inside the bag was a beautiful Carolina Herrera gown in your favorite color. And right on cue, your phone buzzed with a text from your beau, asking if you liked his gift. As always, you texted back saying that it was perfect.

The chauffeur dropped you off at your flat, and asked you to be ready by seven-thirty…but not before taking a good look at your manicured nails and saying an early 'congratulations'.

"Gordon owes me a favor," Mr. Hiddleston bragged a little when he arrived in front of your building at seven-thirty sharp. He opened the door of his favorite black Jaguar, and helped you inside the front passenger seat. "You look stunning tonight, darling."

"You look amazing too," you couldn't help but say. It was the truth after all. "When you said Gordon, did you mean…?"

"We're going to the River Restaurant in the Savoy Hotel, darling." He kept one hand on the steering wheel, placing the other one on your knee. "Hungry?"

"Nervous," you sheepishly said.

"I'm here, nothing can harm you." He turned his eyes to the road. "Your fears are far behind you."

The moment you arrived, the host of the restaurant immediately led you both to one of the outdoor terraces, where there was a table for two set up. Mr. Hiddleston pulled the chair for you before sitting down, and a waiter poured both of you some Dom Pérignon.

"This is beautiful." You gushed, watching the most powerful man in London raise an invisible toast. You clinked your glass against his.

He replied with a dramatic flair. "Nothing compared to you."

"So…what did you to get this favor?" You leaned in and asked him while the waiter placed a charcuterie board for the two of you to share. "This is a seafood place, charcuterie isn't on the menu."

A twinkle in his cerulean eyes, Mr, Hiddleston fed you a piece of cheese. "That's confidential, darling. Just enjoy the night."

"I will."

The two of you made small talk about your day, and about Mr. Hiddleston's upcoming business trip to Paris. You would be going with him of course, Mr. Hiddleston would make sure of that. The waiter refilled your champagne, and your beau discretely gave him a twenty-pound note, whispering that it was time for the main course.

The waiter took about fifteen minutes to bring your elegantly-arranged entrees out onto the terrace. And as he came out, you could hear an orchestra from inside the hotel begin to play "All I Ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mr. Hiddleston leaned forward with a smirk as he noticed you listening to the music.

You admitted this was one of the songs you enjoyed, and said it reminded you of the first time you'd ever heard of the musical. How much you wanted to be Christine in that moment, serenaded with the promise of a life with no more darkness.

"Well there's one more thing I have for you tonight, darling." With a smirk, Mr. Hiddleston reached into the pocket of his blazer, retrieving a small box labeled 'Harry Winston'. He slowly got out of his chair and made his way towards you.

You gasped, covering your mouth almost immediately. You swore you could feel your heart stop just for a moment when his eyes met yours. It all made sense now: the manicure, the accidental 'congratulations', the gown,…

"Oh my god…"

Mr. Hiddleston fell to one knee and opened the box, which contained a 1-carat diamond ring with a platinum band. "Love me. It's all I ask of you."

Tag list: @thatdummy-girl @icytrickster17 @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl , @lokisninerealms @jennyggggrrr ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines , @lokiismineforever @smolvenger @winterfrostlovetriangle , @the-haven-of-fiction , @turniptitaness @cakesandtom ,@sallymagnoliaposts @leahs-reading-nook @holdmytesseract @muddyorbsblr @evelyn-kingsley @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen

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smolvenger · 1 year

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Smolvenger Fanfiction Masterlist Updated 4/7/24

If you want to be tagged, let me know!! :)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, AND ASKS ABOUT MY WORK ARE APPRECIATED! THANK YOU!!!

Star Wars:

Oneshots-

Life Day Gift: Din Djarin x Fem! Reader:

The Mandalorian kept looking directly at you through his helmet. “Where…where did you get that necklace?” he asked. “Old friend, Life Day Gift,” you answered.

Years ago you were friends with a young boy named Din, assumed to be dead when your village was attacked. Now it's Life Day, and the day shift at your job brings a Mandalorian with a secret...an unexpected reunion. (Warnings: Mentions of death and violence and an asshole kid at the beginning, mainly fluff)

Marvel:

Oneshots-

The Most Wonderful Time- Bucky Barnes x fem! Reader: Often, he sat down- troubled. Eyes glazing over nothing but there was something inside him. Something he wouldn’t say

Bucky isn't doing too well at the Christmas celebration with your family. You go to cheer him up. (Warnings: smut with dom! Reader and sub! Bucky, some fluff)

(Not) Alone on Christmas- Bucky Barnes x trans! Masc! Reader:

“You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend!?” Bucky cried, hands on his hips.

You and Bucky fake date around the holidays. But you're definitely not interested in each other...unless...

(Warning: Brief Transphobic family member who gets shut down, some angst, but a lot of fluff)

Series-

I Say Nothing That Frightens Me: Loki x Fem! Reader.

Loki is alive and once I find him, I will tell him how I feel and-” “Y/N, he’s there with a woman he’s fallen in love with…”

Frigga sends you on a mission to find her son, who you secretly have feelings for since you were friends throughout your childhood. When you locate him with the TVA, you learn that he has fallen for some other woman named Sylvie and not you... More Coming Soon! (Warnings: Lots of angst, and an eventual happy ending)

Chapter One //Chapter Two//Chapter Three//Chapter Four Finale Coming Soon!(Continuing. Will be in Four Parts)

A Court of Mischief and Purpose: Loki x fem! Reader

“It is one week. Or you can kiss your life and your precious priest goodbye.”

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series is reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. The god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him. Opening you to a world of more magic and danger than you ever could imagine...

Masterlist Link here (ongoing!)

Masterlist for The Boat in the Water: A Beauty and the Beast Story: Loki x Stella Ransome miniseries

Summary: Having lost her health and her husband's fidelity and love, Stella has nothing more to lose than her life. Then...she is swept away to another realm, to an enchanted castle. A castle whose master is a god...a god with a striking resemblance to her husband.

One// Two//Three//Four//Five//Six

TBD

Tom Hiddleston Characters:

Oneshots-

Professor! Tom Hiddleston

Exam Aid- Prof! Tom x Reader (Request)

“Hello class- good morning. I’m your professor- Professor Hiddleston.”

When finals have gotten you down, your Shakespeare professor offers some help...and motivation... (SMUT)

Hot for Teacher- Prof! Tom x Reader (Request)

“Oh…he hasn’t said anything about a girlfriend, do you think…he’s single?!”

Summary: After being private about your relationship, your professor boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston, introduces you to his students.

Loki

The Ceremony- Loki x fem! Reader

"Now, all of you wish to watch? Then watch."

Summary: You and your dear prince, Loki of Asgard, are finally getting married. But in order for the marriage to be legitimate, your wedding night and consummation must be witnessed… (SMUT)

Seven PM Sharp- Loki x fem! Reader

Stupid, beautiful asshole with a great ass.

Summary: A sudden dinner "for the Avengers" changes everything about the relationship between you and a certain mischievous god... (SMUT)

The King of Asgard- Loki x fem! Reader

“Hail the King Loki! Hail the Queen Y/N!”

As the wife of Prince Loki of Asgard, you suddenly discover that Odin and Thor are gone. You are made queen and your dear husband is king. But a king needs an heir...(SMUT)

Reunion- Loki x fem! Reader

"He’s been gone for a bit- it’s been a few days."

The sacred timeline is destroyed. And your missing, mischievous lover has returned. A confrontation and a fear of abandonment and betrayal with his return still bring about the passion you have for each other. (SMUT)

Yggdrasil- Loki x fem! Reader

“Please…take me to him…it is all I want, all I wish, all I ask for..."

Your husband, the god of mischief, has made the ultimate sacrifice for his friends, and the world...he lives, but now he is alone...that is until you choose to join him in his solitude and make a life there.

My Goddess- Loki x fem! Curvy/Plus-Sized! Reader (Request)

'Don’t get carried away. You’re just not meant for romance, Y/N'

Amidst the pressures of school and your personal insecurities, you never expect your crush on the god of Mischief to be reciprocated...

Crimson Peak

Handsome Enough to Tempt Me.: Sir Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader.

Yes, he was a stranger. Yes, you were alone with a man. But he seemed kind.

You were looking forward to a ball, but no one will dance with you and the night is turning sour. That is until you cross paths with a baronet with a talent for inventing... (TW: brief mentions of past abuse, but lots of fluff, a wee bit of hurt/comfort)

Half Agony, Half Hope: Sir Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader

"And there’s something else…something you must know about me, about the man who’s going to be your husband…”

Your engagement with Thomas Sharpe makes him reveal the trauma of his childhood abuse with you. (TW: Mentions of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse)

Coriolanus

Twenty-Seven Wounds- Caius Martius Coriolanus x fem! Reader

After a few months, you realized something- you had never seen him bare.

In ancient times, in a place that calls itself Rome, you find yourself married to the general Caius Martius or Coriolanus. He has fought so many battles he has twenty-seven scars on his body. Scars that he has not shown you yet...

The Night Manager

Summer In Majorca: Jonathan Pine x fem! Reader

“Listen, the point is- I will not be the one you settle for just because you can’t have Jed!” you cried.

A trip to Spain alongside Roper and his crew had you cross paths with a man mysterious as he is kind and heroic as he is handsome. But it seems he has eyes for Jed and not you...

(Warnings: Eventual Smut)

High-Rise

The Cure for Virginity: Dr. Robert Laing x fem! Reader

Men have the brothel. Women have Laing.

You recently moved into the High-Rise and befriended the Residents. But your new friend, Charlotte, thinks you've been a virgin for too long. She suggests someone to help with that. The best amenity in the building: Doctor Robert Laing.

Warnings: 18+, Eventual SMUT!!!!

Series:

The Essex Serpent

Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed: Some Stella Ransome x Will Ransome, Eventually Stella Ransome x Male OC

"Aldwinter was not filled with the sound of a hissing Serpent but the crying of women and especially of wives."

What does that say when men, even priests, are the ones free to misbehave and innocent women are the ones punished? Here, we explore the life of a young woman named Stella. Sweet and proper, she is naturally the ideal woman for the 19th century's expectations, as well as those for a minister's wife. She falls in love and marries a handsome vicar named William Ransome. Despite the challenges, they build a peaceful, happy life together in their small town. But then Stella Ransome not only catches consumption but discovers her beloved husband is having an affair...

TW: Discussions of cheating and the trauma and grief it brings but the cheated-on spouse gets revenge). If you don't want to read about Will or Cora or their affair being portrayed negatively, you have been warned.The series is now complete!

Link to Masterlist Here

Prologue//One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven//Eight//Nine//

Ten//Eleven//Twelve//Thirteen//Fourteen//Fifteen//Sixteen//

Seventeen

Stella's Second Husband: Stella Ransome x Male OC, a little of Stella x Will if you squint.

"Then, when I die. When I see God before judging my actions. I’ll only tell him- Lord, I loved a precious woman...And if I die from my love for her, then I can think of no sweeter death.”

Act One//Act Two (Complete)

The Pain of Being Betrayed by the ones you love hurts deeper than the bite of any mythical Serpent. Can Stella move on from Will and find a happy future with her new husband, Harry Cavardossi?

Warnings: Discussions of Suicidal Intentions. We get Two Tom Hiddleston's fighting each other. Some Steamy Stuff but no actual graphic smut. Drunkenness.

War Horse

Miss Narracott and The Captain: Captain James Nicholls x fem! Reader

Goodness, the uniform really did make him even more attractive! It made you dizzy.

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven//Part Eight-Finale Coming Soon!

Summary: You are Y/N Narracott, the older sister of Albert Narracott. You must do what you can so your family can keep their farm. And so your brother can keep his beloved horse. Under financial struggles, you never expect romance to come into your life...until you have a chance encounter with James Nicholls- a Captain with a knack for drawing. (Continuing)

Warnings: Light Slow Burn, some fluff, and some angst.

How To Fake Date A Spy: Jonathan Pine x fem! Reader

“Tell everyone you’re a couple, now. Go to a few parties and restaurants, hold arms, and smile at each other. Maybe a kiss on the cheek, sometimes!"

Part One//Part Two//Part Three Coming Soon!

When you joined your sister, Jed, for a lovely summer in Spain, you wanted to enjoy yourself. Instead, you have to deal with numerous men of Roper's business having a gross interest in you for more than small talk. Going to Roper for help, he offers an idea- pretending to be the date of his newest friend. A handsome sous-chef known as Thomas Quince. Little do you know yet, the man's real name is Jonathan Pine and he is on a mission to take Roper down...

The Hollow Crown

Used Goods- Prince Hal x Reader.

Why does he have to be The Prince of Wales? Why couldn’t he be just a tailor?

You are betrothed to your darling prince Hal, but the Law of Contract demands that you must be a virgin to marry the future King of England. This forces you to confirm a traumatic incident and secret from your past...how will Hal react? TW: Discussions of past sexual assault,"Who did this to you?", Hurt/Comfort, and comforting fluff.

Part One// Part Two

The Twelve Days- Prince Hal x Reader.

“You, luckiest of girls, are betrothed to marry none other than the King of England!” your mother cheered.

You were betrothed to marry none other than the young kind of England, a man you had never met. Now you must face your first celebration of the Twelve Days of Christmas not only as a queen but as a wife in a royal and still unconsummated marriage... TW: Smut, only a little angst, and lots of fluffy and romantic moments.

(Now Complete!)

One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven//Eight

The Queen's Abduction- Henry V x fem! Reader (Request)

"You may not fear my father, you may not fear my brother- but you will fear the wrath of his majesty, the king"

Shortly after your secret marriage to the king of England, Henry V, a nefarious villain abducts you to be his...

Nursing The Prince- Prince Hal x fem! Reader

"You look at the prince like he was a honey-cake!"

You tend to Prince Hal's wounds after the Battle of Shrewsbury.

Arise Fair Sun- Henry V x fem! Reader

"Here, there are no eyes watching us. I can speak to you honestly"y.

One night, Henry appears under your balcony to confess his feelings to you.

The Wedding of The King- Henry V x fem! Reader

As king, Henry could have anything...But he could not have a wife who loved him.

Henry is looking forward to the wedding of his arranged marriage to you. You as The Bride, however, are not...

(Small Spinoff of The Twelve Days but can be read without that context)

The Battle of Agincourt- Henry V x fem! Reader

"The camp is far off. They won’t disturb us. They won’t hear us..."

As his wife and queen, you follow your husband, Henry the Fifth to France for his battles. It is the morning of the battle of Agincourt, and you don't know if he will make it out alive. You spend one last moment of passion together. (Contains Smut)

After The Battle- Henry V x fem! Reader

For many men, the lust for battle was only a flip of a coin from the lust of the body.

After your husband, King Henry V, wins and survives the battle of Agincourt, you meet him in his tent to reward him... (Contains smut)

The Tavern Prince- Prince Hal x Fem! Proper! Reader

You hated that he was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.

You are shocked and unhappy to find out you are betrothed to notorious rake, Prince Hal. But one evening, he sneaks you into the Boar's Head Tavern...and your mind about him starts to change. (SMUT)

BIRTHDAY BLURB MASTERLIST TBD

Taglist: @4stary @sonyascomet @asgards-princess-of-mischiefvelyn-kingsley @five-miles-over @jennyggggrrr @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @villainousshakespeare

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, DMS, AND ASKS ABOUT MY WORK ARE APPRECIATED! THANK YOU!!! If anyone wants to be added to the taglist or removed, please let me know! Thanks y'all!

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likesomekindofcheese · 1 year

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So today on “wtf did I just see” I was feeling bold and confident and described my fic Stella of Essex or The Vicar’s Wife Betrayed in the comment section of a YouTube video. I said it was about a sweet, sickly woman whose husband cheats on her and afterward she calls him out on it and eventually kills him. I have been so happy and proud of it, Especially since that is my passion project and my baby.

But then…THIS guy replies with the below:

Uhm…

#bro #why #tell me why #archive of our own #Ao3 #ao3 author #fanfiction #clemence poesy #tom hiddleston #Stella of Essex #Carrie writes #internet comments #wtf dude #Carrie speaks #fanfiction author #fanfic author

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focsle · 1 year

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Music on Whaleships

Because how else will you power through the boredom AND the horrors!?

Two men aboard the Wanderer, photographed by Pardon B. Gifford in 1906 (New Bedford Whaling Museum)

Music featured quite frequently on whalers, though not necessarily in the same way as it might on a merchant vessel. The quintessential musical contribution of sailors—the sea shanty—didn’t hold as prominent a place aboard a whaler as it did on other types of ships. Some captains were particularly strict about keeping noise down while cruising to prevent gallying any nearby whales. Shanties were also less necessary for performing the work: Whaleships tended not to carry a great deal of sail, had a lot of hands aboard available to handle it, and were quite leisurely in their pace as they lolled around the globe for years at a time. This was unlike merchant ships that tended to have smaller crews, larger ships, and tighter schedules, all for which shanties were used more often to coordinate that work effort. However, music was still vital to maintaining good morale during a whalers' work that was, in turns, extremely demanding and dangerous, and extremely dull and mind-numbing. Both of which could really plague a fellow's soul if there was no relief. A panacea for a whaleship's ills, music rang out in the fo'c'sle during idle hours, was sought out during shore leaves, was copied down in remembered songs in the backs of men's journals, and any fellow who hazarded to pick up an instrument or lift his voice was a prized member of the crew.

Read on, under the readmore, since this is also quite a long one with many a photo, journal entry, recorded music, and whalers' original written songs! I really REALLY enjoyed pulling this one together.

Even though they weren't as utilized, there were still occasions when shanties burst out on deck. Greenhand William Abbe of the Atkins Adams (1858) recalled them first being used several months into the voyage. This speaks to the fact that shanties weren't a regular part of whaling work, but rather an instance of one shipmate finally venturing to include them:

“We began to sing shanties last night in hauling aft sheets or bowsing on halliards — Jack leading in 'Johnny Francois' + 'Katy, My Darling' and all hands taking up the refrain + pulling with a will. This pleased the Mate who told us that pretty well for the first time that he liked to hear us make a noise—as it showed that Jack —not Allegany [surname of a crewmate on board] — but any one of us was awake. He laughed—waved his hands— + cried out 'that’s the way sailors'.”

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Johnny Francois, aka Boney

They were later "obliged to avast singing + haul away without the "Shantie" as the crew’s singing was so "ludicrous" that they were all laughing over it rather than effectively hauling. But even if shanties weren’t often used aboard the Atkins Adams to set the pace of the work, they still featured during downtime in their watches:

“Jack leading sung the watch out in Shanties 'Johnny Francois' 'Santa Anna' 'Katy, My Darling' +c. Mr. Gorland + Tripp came forward and joined us. It was very cold and wet — but our singing warmed our hearts while we were free from the spray and warm from mutual contact.”

On whaleships, shanties were more frequently employed—though still inconsistently—during more demanding tasks such as weighing anchor or working the windlass to haul up blubber.

While greenhand John Perkins’s ship, Tiger, was lying at anchor at the Hawaiian islands in 1845, he mentioned hearing another whaling crew strike up a shanty upon leaving:

“When called this morning we heard the Neptune’s crew weighing anchor to the tune of ‘Tally hi o you know.’ After breakfast our watch went ashore on liberty”

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Tally-I-Oh

Music was also greatly sought out during whalers’ shore leave. Thomas Nickerson, cabin boy of the ill-fated Essex, 1820, wrote about a dance hall in Talcahuano that he was quite unimpressed by, but his other shipmates enjoyed tremendously.

"There we found a few young women seated around the hall on wooden stools, and playing off some Spanish airs upon their guitars to dance by. There did not seem to be either melody or music in their touch, but after such an interval of confinement our men were ready to dance to anything had it even been a corn stalk fiddle. With their guitars were an accompaniment of an old copper pan used as a tambourine. To this music did our men dance apparently with as much satisfaction as though it had been the finest music in the world.”

Music was also one of the first ways whalers and locals at various ports of call built camaraderie between each other, where potential language barriers were no object if someone had along with them a fiddle (and maybe some alcohol). Such an interaction was recorded by Albert Peck, greenhand on the Covington that stopped in Guam in the 1850s:

"Having our fiddler with us, we went from one hut to another giving them a tune at each, which would please them very much, and to show their appreciation of it they would produce a bottle of aquadiente [Aguardiente] or brandy, and treat us to a glass which would consist of a coconut shell, until it became evident that this would not do if we intended to walk to the town, as before long we should be incapable of walking anywhere. So we started for the town."

Whaler-made fiddle c. 1835-50, inscribed with the name Daniel Weeks. (New Bedford Whaling Museum)

But liberty always came to an end. When the Tiger departed Hawaii 10 days later, Perkins noted that they were too glum to accompany their leaving with a shanty:

“We weighed anchor without a song all feeling to bad at departing from summer islands to the cold Norwest sure of hard labor, absolute suffering & danger.”

Amidst that hard labor, absolute suffering, & danger, music served an essential function of bringing in levity and acting as a pressure release valve aboard.

Clifford Ashley, who joined the bark Sunbeam in 1904 on part of her voyage for research, described the music of his dog watch:

"Two misfit concertinas every night sent up their dismal wail to a tune that never varied, often keeping time with the strokes of a couple who pounded up hard bread in a canvas bag to be mixed into a molasses mush for their watch."

A whaler's concertina, c. 1850 (Nantucket Whaling Museum)

Any man who had a bit of a voice or could play a bit of an instrument quickly became a favorite among the crew, even if he only knew one song. Foremast hand William Stetson, of the Arab (1850s), was delighted when a new man they shipped aboard during a provision stop had some faint musical inclination.

“in the dog watches we enjoy ourselves very agreeably by stepping off a lively measure to the tune of “roads to Boston” as performed on the violin by Moody, one of those lately shipped at Lahaina. This is about the only tune he can saw off decently, but he is the first that has belonged to the bark this voyage who has made any pretensions to being a fiddler, and consequently the ‘doleful music’ of the skipper’s cracked violin is usually heard in the evening between the hours of five and seven P.M"

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Moody's go-to, Road to Boston.

Even in the absence of an actual musical instrument, crews made do with whatever they could get. William Abbe writes about one such time on the Atkins Adams:

Last night while gamming with F. Willy in the forecastle I was called on deck to help make up a set for a cotillion — being honored as the lady of Curly — we were at a loss for music + were stepping to the hummed air of Johnny the Boatsteerer + the orders of the dancing master — Jack — when Shanghai rushed up from the forecastle + jumping up on the oil cask looked forward of the windlass + squatting his long legs on the cask head began a toot toot on an old tin funnel, followed by Johnny Come Lately on an old tin bread pan for a drum — We greeted our band with shouts — + to the music of our mimic french horn and kettle drum chased up + down + joining hands by partners promenaded with double quick steps round the forecastle deck making the deck ring with our laughter — + the rattling music — both music and steps getting quicker + quicker till Tarpsechorz [Terpsichore] herself would have fled agast — + home belles and beaus would have fainted at the sight —our fun was suddenly interrupted by the order to shorten sail — + our quick stepping was only rivaled by our agility aloft for we reduced sail in unusually short time.

The captain, enjoying their sense of play but finding their makeshift music particularly disagreeable, then came up on deck to give them something to better it:

“Old Man liked the fun but didn’t like the music for Old Woman — brot up on deck a new accordion + calling Charley aft consigned it to him with the injunction to use it well — Charley came forward — delighted— + mounting the spars struck up Fisher’s Hornpipe + the strums sounding through the calm evening animated us till Jack or Molly [a crewmate currently crossdressing for the role] + our barefooted stepping got the whole Ship’s Company in a roar — from the Old Woman to Cabin Boy.”

Crew members of the Charles W. Morgan, 1906, taken by Pardon B. Gifford (New Bedford Whaling Museum)

Sometimes music was a little less favorably received. J.T. Langdon, greenhand on the St Peter, 1840s-50s, had brought his fiddle aboard to entertain himself, and at one point taught the Captain how to play it. On the homeward bound stretch--with his patience with the job and everyone on board strained to the limit--he grumbled about music-making halting getting home quickly:

"There seems to be an little disregard to sailing the vessel on the part of the Captain and the Mate. The 'Old Man' will saw away on his 'old fiddle' and the mate will tinker and the ship goes where she likes. I have sometimes almost cursed the day that I learned the Cap'n to fiddle."

Sometimes, sailing be damned, it was time for an entire musical production, as on veteran whaler John Martin's ship, the Lucy Ann, 1841. He wrote out the Program along with the nicknames of the performers.

"We finished this day with a grand concert given by the whole crew. The audience were sea gulls. The following is the programme of the concert. Programme Part 1st Song. One eyed Riley With chorus by whole crew. - By Chub. "There was a Sheppards daughter, Kept sheep on yander hill" - by Lightning Song. I hit her right on her stinking Machine - by Hominy Head Solo. On Kent Bugle by - myself Part 2nd Song. Cant you wont you stay a little longer - by Turpin "Turkish Lady - Black Leg Duette with Drum & Fife - Chub & [left blank] Part 3rd Song. My dogs eyes makes mince pies - Steward "Morgan Ratler - Spunyarn "The Meremaid in three parts by - Hardy "Trayum with chorus by crew Part 4th Song. Kelly the Pirate - King David "Tally ho - Spunyarn "Lord Lovell that went strange, countries for to see - Hardy Solo. on flute by - Young Norval Part 5th Song. Fanny Blair - Turpin "French Lady - Mizen "All the girls in our town - Steward Part 6th Song. So early in the morning, the Sailors love the bottle O. - by Mocho a color'd Gentleman "Milkmaid - Hominy Head "Two little sisters walking up the street" - Jersey Grand Chorus by the whole Crew on Bugle, Drum, Fife, Flute, Violins, Triangles, &c. & wound up by The mate telling us if we did not quit making such a damned noise he would heave a bucket of stinking water over us. Ends the same.

An excerpt of John Martin's above program:

Often, in the backs of journals whalemen would write songs that are still known today. Rolling Down to Old Maui, Blow Ye Winds, Coast of Peru, Homeward Bound, Saucy Sailor, etc. These were learned on the job, or exchanged between crew mates. From the journal of William Buel of the Wave, 1856, the lyrics to Saucy Sailor which he learned from a fellow greenhand:

"I am young my love and I am frolicsome Good natured kind and free And I don't care a single toss my boys What the world says of me ~~~~ Learnt from my friend Joseph F Horan"

There's something quite lovely to having a shared thread from their lives into the present. We might be separated by a gulf of over a century, but we know the lyrics to the same songs.

Some whalers composed their own songs, too. I'll close with one written by career whaleman Joseph Dias, when he was captain of the St. George in 1853. He ended his lyrics with the note 'Read and Circulate', so I see it as my duty to do him a small kindness 170 years later by circulating it now.

Paradox Come all ye shipmates lend an ear And the truth you soon shall hear Of the Ship St. George in the zealous sea Who is raiseing hell it seems to me — The way we try to get our grease So to strike three whales and save a piece Beside two whales of india ruber The boatsteerer swore to be slack blubber — Very poor advice I freely lend Of a way I highly recommend To take a crowbar and punch a hole Drive in the iron and the pole — Hang to your line till all is blue Either kill him or he kill you We want a man upon the docket To go ahead like david Crockett -- Promoting men at our expense Takes our dollars with our pence Besides it throws our work away This thing For sure will never pay �� To see the whales was once the cry They are here where e're you turn your eye They have raced for rise to sitting sun Been on a dozen and killed but one — To man that’s taught in a bowhead school Will find himself here but a fool Read and Circulate

#awhalin #I LOOOOVE this one PLEASE CLAP #Youtube

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